


two boys for every girl

by gravitycentered



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cisswap, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, girl!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:51:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2777174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravitycentered/pseuds/gravitycentered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Isn’t this Zayn’s room?” Louis asks.</p>
<p>“Probably,” Harry says. </p>
<p>“Right,” she agrees. When she looks back up, she notices a massive bruise blooming in the center of Harry’s left collarbone. After studying it, she can definitely pick out individual tooth marks.  </p>
<p>Narrowing her eyes, Louis asks, “Did you shag him?” </p>
<p>A laugh startles its way out of Harry’s mouth, as if the thought is surprising. His cheeks go a little pink. “Not exactly.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>or: Louis' sleeping with Zayn, Zayn's sleeping with Harry, and now seems like the right time for all of them to sleep together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	two boys for every girl

**Author's Note:**

> well... this is a thing that happened. as you may be coming to expect from me, this whole fic is entirely lacking in plot and i refuse to apologize for it!!! special thanks must go out to lola, charlotte, agnes, jaya and sana for reading this over for me as it was being written. title is apparently from the gogo's cover of surf city according to a google search done on songs about threesomes because i can't title fics for the life of me. 
> 
> ANYWAY, come say hello over on [tumblr](http://zaptains.tumblr.com)!!

Louis spends so long knocking loudly on the hotel room door that when Harry finally flings it open, she’s momentarily confused about who she was searching for in the first place. 

He looks annoyed and very sleepy. Still, he mumbles, “Morning.” 

“Was I looking for you?” she asks, squeezing past him into the short hallway of the suite. She stops suddenly and turns back around, remembering her original goal, and Harry stumbles straight into her. Only wearing pants, his cock pushes against her belly, unmistakably hard. 

“Sorry,” he yawns, patting her on the top of the head. 

Louis shoves him back a little. “Can you put that thing away, please,” she asks, frowning down at his crotch. He frowns down at it as well. “Isn’t this Zayn’s room?” 

“Probably,” Harry says. 

“Right,” Louis agrees. When she looks back up, she notices a massive bruise blooming in the center of Harry’s left collarbone. After studying it, she can definitely pick out individual tooth marks. 

“What?” he asks. 

Narrowing her eyes, Louis asks, “Did you shag him?” 

A laugh startles its way out of Harry’s mouth, as if the thought is surprising. His cheeks go a little pink. “Not exactly.” 

“Hm,” Louis says. She ventures deeper into the suite and finds Zayn burrowed under the blankets on the only bed; the side he’s not on is mussed, and still warm when she crawls up beside him. 

Zayn isn’t asleep, she knows, his eyebrows furrowed in the fear that she’ll terrorize him into getting out of bed. “Good morning,” she says sweetly. 

“No,” he says back, into the fluffy duvet wrapped around the lower half of his head. 

“Would you like to hear a story?” she asks. She gently smooths Zayn’s hair away from his forehead, petting him slowly. “It’s about a girl who is the absolute best friend that any ungrateful, horny traitor could have.” 

Zayn blinks his eyes open and peeks up at her. “What’re y’talking about?” 

“I _waited_ for you,” Louis says dramatically. “Did you know you can get room service even if it’s not to your room? They brought dinner to the bus for us. A lovely pasta. But _no_ , instead you’ve been shagging Harold and ignoring my texts.” 

Zayn blinks again. “I didn’t shag Harry.” 

“Did you not? He’s got a massive lovebite, walking around with his willy out, sleeping in your bed, isn’t he? Are you naked under there?” Louis tries tugging the blanket away from Zayn’s body, but he curls into himself and pulls it tighter. 

“ _I_ didn’t shag him,” Zayn repeats, with emphasis. “He brought a bird back, though.” 

“Harry!” Louis calls. He ambles into the room several seconds later, chewing something leisurely. “Put some bloody trousers on. Why are you pulling girls and bringing them to Zayn’s room?” 

“He came with us upstairs, she said he could stay,” Harry shrugs, swallowing. He doesn’t put any effort into finding trousers. 

“I was a spectator,” Zayn offers. 

“A spectator!” Harry says, delighted. “He had scorecards. And a notepad.” 

“What’s the verdict?” Louis asks. 

“6 out of 10,” Zayn says. His eyes are closed again. Louis pulls a disappointed face at Harry, who looks offended. 

“Didn’t stop him from wanking along,” he says, mildly sulkily. 

“Oh, that’s a bit naughty,” Louis teases, flicking the tip of Zayn’s nose. He slaps at her wrist. “Quite kinky, actually. I’m still cross with you, though.” 

Zayn scoots closer and flops his head against Louis’ thigh. “Sorry I missed the lovely pasta.” 

“That’s a bit of a diva move, honestly,” Harry says. He climbs back into bed as if Louis’ not even there. “Making hotel staff trek out into the carpark for a pasta.” 

“Excuse me, I didn’t _make_ anyone do anything. I simply _asked_ , and they got an incredible tip as well. Stop eavesdropping.” 

“It’s not eavesdropping if you’re speaking loud enough I can hear you in the kitchen, is it?” 

“Anyway,” Louis says pointedly, “as it is, Liam had to eat most of that pasta. Thank god he was there or it would’ve all been for naught. Because of this horny traitor. You didn’t even get a proper shag for it, either.” 

“Got a free show, though,” Harry says. 

“I can’t imagine that’s better than _actually_ getting laid.” 

“Wasn’t bad,” Zayn mumbles. He pushes the blanket underneath one arm and shifts to settle his head up on Louis’ thigh. 

Lowering her voice to hopefully only speak to Zayn, Louis murmurs, “Could’ve had dinner and a shag both, had you come outside.” 

Zayn kisses her thigh and looks up at her, certainly awake now, but Harry also twists around beside her and props himself up on one elbow. “You know, I always forget you two do that until you use that sexy voice.” 

“When that happens, it’s usually polite to pretend you didn’t hear anything,” Louis says, shoving at Harry’s head to see if he’ll tip over. He rebalances himself quickly enough. 

“You’re literally right beside me. I would need earplugs to not to hear anything.” 

“Maybe s’your turn to spectate,” Zayn says to Harry; he’s looking at Louis, though, grinning up at her. 

“I mean, I wouldn’t say _no_ ,” Harry says. He ducks when Louis goes to push him again, curling up to rest his head on her other thigh. Louis uncrosses her legs and straightens them out, jostling both of them around. 

“Do I look like a human pillow to you lot? Are you quite comfortable?” 

“Quite,” Zayn agrees. He reaches out to rub a thumb over the bruise on Harry’s collarbone, pressing against it hard enough that Harry hisses. Louis feels the heat of his breath through her pyjamas. “She got you good, didn’t she?” 

“It bloody hurts,” Harry sighs, curling a hand around Louis’ knee. She leans back against the headboard and watches them, running her fingers through Zayn’s hair. They’re close enough that their noses are practically touching, and she can’t see exactly where they’re looking but she suspects Zayn’s still staring at the bruise, stroking his thumb along Harry’s collarbone. 

“Good hurt, though. Got him loud when she bit him,” Zayn says to Louis, dragging the backs of his fingers down Harry’s chest until his hand rests low on Louis’ thigh. 

“He always has liked a bit of pain, hasn’t he?” Louis muses, petting Harry as well, burrowing her fingers into the hair on both their heads. It’s been ages since she’s even given Harry a kiss, literal years, but they’ve learned to joke about it; she still remembers him at 17, mumbling between messy kisses, telling her to scratch down his back, shivering on top of her when she did. 

Zayn hums and gives Harry’s nipple a quick pinch, offering that as a followup question; Harry sucks in a breath through his teeth, fingers clamping a little tighter around Louis’ knee, and that’s as good an answer as they need. 

Unexpectedly, Harry crowds in and closes the final few centimeters between his mouth and Zayn’s, kissing him. Louis’ heart nervously picks up speed right away, making her feel half jealous and half excited, and she sits up a little straighter to see as much of them as she can. They kiss slowly, Zayn’s fingers plucking again at Harry’s nipple, and it seems that this is the direction their morning would’ve gone in no matter what, especially had she not come up. Out of curiosity, Louis twists several locks of Harry’s hair around her fingers and pulls, watching his mouth go slack for Zayn to lick inside. 

Just the brief glimpse of Zayn’s tongue has Louis clenching her thighs tighter; it doesn’t bother the boys, lets them melt closer together and cover more of her legs with their torsos, Harry’s bare belly warmer against her left than Zayn wrapped in blankets on her right. All Louis hears is the soft buzz of the air-con and the slick sounds of Zayn and Harry’s mouths, leaving her quietly aroused. 

“Alright, lads,” she says after a moment, gently scratching at both of their scalps. “Didn’t sign up to be a third wheel this morning.” 

Harry pulls himself away first, looking slightly dazed, and tilts his head up to face her. Louis only glances back for a moment before avoiding his eyes, feeling her cheeks burn the longer he stares. 

“Give me a kiss, then,” Zayn says, nuzzling up against her thigh. The beard he’s sporting has several weeks of growth now, and some of the hairs slip through the thinning fabric of her pyjamas, prickling her skin. Still, she can see his smirk even with his mouth pressed against her.

“Come here and I’ll think on it,” she replies. Harry resettles back on her leg, the top of his head cradled against her hip where she’s still sitting upright. A bit of his hair sneaks under the hem of her top, tickling her stomach, but she lets him stay. 

“Nah,” Zayn says. “Comfy down here.” He wraps a hand around her ankle and squeezes, sliding it higher to feel up her shin. Louis hasn’t shaved recently either but Zayn makes no mention of it, running his fingers up until they’re tucked under the ticklish bend of her knee, pyjamas pushed up as well. 

“Guess you’re not getting a kiss,” she tells him, crossing her legs to keep the bare one from getting cold, nestling it under the other. 

“Not from _you_ , maybe,” Harry says. He wedges his hand between Louis’ thighs, stealing the warmth from her, leaving the places his fingers sit feeling cold and too present. It’s impossible to ignore her arousal now, pulse pounding faintly in her clit just centimeters away from both of their hands and mouths. 

“Don’t get greedy, Harold,” Louis says, pulling at one lock of his hair until the wave within it straightens out. “Had him all night already.” 

“Didn’t really,” Harry murmurs, speaking quieter when he notices Zayn leaning in. 

Zayn starts the kiss this time, resting his head right in the center of Louis’ body, ear pressed to her pubic bone. She tightens her grip on Harry’s hair just to keep herself from rolling her hips up into the pressure, and she’s not sure if Harry hums because of her or if it’s something Zayn’s done. They’re kissing more deeply now, mouths opening for each other, and Zayn’s hand leaves Louis’ knee to curl around Harry’s neck instead; she reaches down to stroke his knuckles, sighing when he links their fingers together, strands of Harry’s hair caught in between. 

“Zayn,” Louis says quietly, slightly lost. He’s the middleman here, the one who’s been with them both, and she needs an anchor in this. He squeezes her fingers and kicks a leg out of the blankets, pressing it closer until Harry groans as Zayn pulls back from his mouth. 

“He’s still hard,” Zayn mumbles, inching backwards and licking his lips when Harry tries to tip towards his mouth again. 

All Louis feels from Zayn lying on her is the padding of the blanket, no bulge to make it obvious, so she asks, “Are you?” 

She has her answer as soon as he looks up at her, mouth slick. “Are _you_?” he asks back. 

“Can’t you feel my cock?” she says. Harry laughs, sounding a bit out of breath, but Zayn drops his head down to nudge his nose between her thighs, right above her clit, making her gasp and try to squirm back. Their added weight on her legs keeps her in place, though, and Harry’s fingers tighten around her thigh almost enough to hurt. 

“Not yet,” Zayn says, “maybe we oughta get you harder, first, then have a feel.” 

“ _Zayn_ ,” she repeats, looking down at him incredulously. With Zayn breathing hot between her legs even through her clothes, she can’t collect her thoughts. 

“Yeah?” he asks, a bit like he’s seeking permission, but Louis can’t bring herself to answer so explicitly. She pushes the hair back off of Zayn’s forehead, watching him, and when he lowers his head to press his mouth against her again, she tilts her head back and blinks up at the ceiling, starting to breath quickly. Harry’s fingertips dig into her inner thigh, like he’s trying to urge her legs apart, so she clenches them tighter together. 

“Dunno, can’t feel much of anything,” Zayn murmurs, pushing himself up onto his knees to take his weight off of Louis’ leg. When Louis looks back down she finds them both watching her, and she feels hot all the way down her chest. Harry props himself back up onto his elbow, and with both of them gone her legs tingle, blood rushing back in the absence of their weight. She knows they’re both waiting for her, still watching, so she slouches down and bends her right leg at the knee until her thighs no longer touch. 

They each slide one hand up between her legs, Harry stopping to stroke high on the inside of her thigh while Zayn doesn’t stop at all, not until he cups his hand right over her cunt through her pyjamas. Louis reaches out to grip his forearm, digging her nails into his skin, and chews hard at the inside of her lip to keep quiet. 

“Hm,” Zayn hums. The blanket’s fallen mostly off of his body, and he settles down onto his belly again, grinding the heel of his hand against Louis’ clit, “Think she’s hard, as well, mate,” he tells Harry. 

“Yeah?” Harry asks. It’s a shock to hear his voice right now, like this, deeper than Zayn’s, and Louis inhales sharply. 

“Gonna let Harry have a feel, babe?” Zayn asks, drawing his fingers up to rub around her clit more accurately. Now Louis does moan, squeezing hard at Zayn’s arm, starting to pant. 

It’s unfair in a way, this new dynamic. Harry and Zayn have had plenty of threesomes, she knows, a handful of those together; she’s never slept with more than one person at a time. She’s overwhelmed and outnumbered and nervous, but in a way that’s thrilling. 

“Yeah,” she breathes. Zayn moves his hand out of the way and Louis huffs out a whine, trying to keep him there. 

“Hazza’s got ya,” Zayn says, grabbing her fingers and tangling them up in his. 

Harry does almost exactly what Zayn did first, cupping his hand right between her legs before seeking out her clit and rubbing there firmly. He takes just the same pace as Zayn, both of them leisurely, and Louis squirms against it this time; it’s been ages since anyone besides Zayn has touched her. It’s so good, even over all her clothes, but she still tries to stay quiet just to be obstinate, embarrassed at how quickly she could come if Harry keeps his fingers moving. 

“Not sure I can tell through all this,” Harry says after a moment, pushing his fingers a bit harder against her like he’d be going inside if she was naked. Slowly, Louis realizes they’re still playing up that stupid joke, the joke she’d started what seems like hours ago, about feeling her cock. It’s almost annoying, how they can still banter when she can barely find her voice. 

“Oughta take these off,” Zayn mumbles, letting her fingers go to undo the knot tied in the strings of her pyjamas. 

Louis doesn’t wait for any more coaxing this time, just slides down far enough to lift her hips off the bed. The boys have their hands on her before she can even move to help, pulling the pyjamas off of her and staring openly when she settles back against the mattress, half lying down now. It’s not the sexiest she’s ever looked, in her sleep shirt and soft, grey cotton knickers, hair unbrushed, but with two sets of eyes watching her so hungrily none of that even registers. 

“Jesus,” Harry says, low and quiet, sliding his hand up her bare thigh. “Know you’ve soaked straight through your knickers, don’t you?” He moves to drag his thumb over the wet spot, much lighter than before, and Louis jolts. 

“Haven’t done that in a while,” Zayn murmurs, pressing his lips against a sliver of skin on her hip between her knickers and top. 

“Fucking— shut up,” Louis pants, scrubbing her hands over her face, trying to stop herself from flushing any deeper. 

“So it _is_ still you,” Harry teases. He hasn’t touched her properly since she lost her bottoms, neither of them have. “Never knew you to be so quiet like this.” 

Before she can respond, Zayn says, “She can be good sometimes.” 

Louis’ breath leaves her in a rush, and she squeezes her eyes shut for a second, almost positive she can feel herself get wetter. Zayn’s smirking at her when she looks at him again. 

“Yeah?” Harry asks, “She been good today, then?” 

“Oh my god,” Louis groans; _I’m right here_ , she wants to say, wants to fight against them talking about her like she’s not there, but she stays quiet anyway to hear what Zayn decides. 

Zayn rubs low on her belly, dipping his fingers into the band of her knickers. “Yeah, she’s been good,” he says. Louis nudges her hips up against his hand, trying to get him to touch her, but he doesn’t move any lower. 

“What’s she get for it?” Harry asks. His hand is back on her thigh, stroking lightly, and Louis opens her legs wider, trying to draw their attention where she wants it. 

“Fucking _touch_ me,” she demands, looking to Zayn. “Please.” 

“Think we are,” he says, slipping his hand into her knickers. Louis almost thanks him until he curls his fingers around the edge of the leg opening and tugs it carefully to the side, exposing her cunt and never touching her in the process. 

“Fuck,” Harry groans, leaning in closer and reaching up to hold her knickers out of the way. Zayn sits up to see and pulls his hand out, rubbing up Louis’ belly instead. 

“ _Please_ ,” she whines, so aroused she’s dizzy with it, desperate to be touched, trying to squirm against the tips of Harry’s fingers. 

“Let me taste her, babe, said she’s been good,” Harry murmurs, close enough that Louis convinces herself she can feel his breath when he speaks.

Zayn reaches out to push Harry’s hair away from his face and nods, finally, giving them permission, “Yeah, lick her out for me.” 

Harry moves in tongue first, licking straight into her with no hesitation; the relief is overpowering. She grabs onto Harry’s hair with one hand, fingers bumping into Zayn’s, and moans long and quiet, opening her legs wider for him to lie between them. It doesn’t ache when Harry’s chin drags against her cunt, not enough stubble there to make her sore, so she rocks down onto his face and holds him closer. 

“Suck her,” Zayn says, petting Harry’s head one last time before stretching out beside Louis, slipping his hand underneath her top. He kisses along the edge of Louis’ jaw until she turns to catch his lips, unable to kiss him properly when Harry sucks firmly around her clit, gasping into his mouth instead. 

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” Louis breathes, talking to both of them but not sure if Harry’s heard; in any case, he spreads her open with two fingers of his free hand and gives her clit a slow lick, making her shudder. 

Kissing his way back to her jaw, Zayn whispers to her, “He’s asked about this, wanted me to tell him how you taste.” Below them, Harry hums against her cunt, a pleased little sound like he knows what Zayn’s saying. 

“Talk about me often, do you?” Louis asks, so breathless that it doesn’t come out like she wanted, sounding more hopeful than accusatory. She sees Harry look up at her then, mouth still working her clit, but he doesn’t pull back to respond. 

“Maybe not often,” Zayn says, still softly. He feels up to Louis’ chest and pushes the band of her bra up until one breast is free, searching out her nipple to squeeze. She whimpers when he finds it, pinching gently. “He knows a bit, though.” 

Zayn pushes her top up until her chest is bared; both of them are just tugging her clothing out of the way, Harry still holding her knickers against her thigh, and it somehow makes it feel more illicit. She tries to ask what Harry might know about her, but instead ends up pleading, “Lick me again.” 

He listens, dragging his tongue slowly up the length of her cunt, watching her face; Louis looks back at him, mostly at his tongue against her, and swallows. 

“Gonna make her come like that?” Zayn asks, lightly twisting her nipple between his fingers. She flushes again at that, them talking _about_ her rather than _to_ her, like they’ll decide what she gets. 

Harry stops long enough to lick his lips, wet on both cheeks and his chin from her moving against him. “Should I?” 

“What d’you want, Louis?” Zayn asks, looking between the both of them but pausing on her, waiting for an answer.

“God,” Louis shivers, curling an arm around his waist to draw him in closer; he kisses her cheek and she tries to nuzzle into him, breathing quickly. “Want you.” 

“Yeah? Have since last night, I bet,” he says, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her nipple. Louis’ not sure if he’s read any of the texts she sent him the night before, but he’s right either way. She texted him late into the night, casual at first and more desperately when Liam went to sleep, back in her bunk with one hand in her pyjamas and the other on her phone, hoping Zayn would at least text back. 

“Longer,” she admits.

“Aw,” Zayn coos, a bit teasing. She gives his bum a light swat and refuses to laugh, turning her face away when he tries to kiss her. “Get her knickers off, Haz,” he says, pinching her nipple tightly and smirking when she gasps. 

“Not quite so good, now, is she?” Harry asks, getting his fingers into the band of her knickers and pulling them off her hips. 

Louis raises her legs to help him, slowly spreading them again when Harry’s hands slide up to her thighs. “Not as good as you, you mean? Always doing as Zayn tells you? You let him pick what you got to do with your girl last night?” She nudges Harry’s side with her foot and tucks her toes underneath his ribs, pleased when she sees his cheeks get redder. 

“Nah,” Zayn answers for him, tellingly. “Let him do what he wanted last night. Might not today, though.” 

“Let him watch. His turn to spectate, you said,” Louis reminds him, shivering when Zayn trails the tips of his fingers down her belly. She watches Harry’s eyes, sees him following Zayn’s hand and dropping back between her legs in intervals. 

“Do I get to judge your performance as well?” Harry asks.

“Out of 10,” Zayn allows. “C’mere, though. Didn’t even give Lou a kiss yet.” 

Louis swallows. Their last kiss was two years ago and Harry was _beyond_ pissed, nearly falling onto her as he attempted leaning down far enough to reach her mouth. She’d laughed and let him win for a moment, kissing him very slowly, and then set him up on the sofa in the back of the bus for the night, bringing his blankets and a bin in case he needed to be sick. She never mentioned it to him. 

Before that, Louis can hardly remember why they stopped getting off together. It was never for long, just a quick few months where they’d sneak into each other’s beds and snog until Louis slipped her hand into her knickers and Harry watched her come, hand curled around his cock through his pants. She can count on one hand the number of times Harry’s had his fingers inside her, and every time she returned the favor, pulling him off quickly. After they went home following the first tour Harry called her once, hard and cheeky, and talked her into getting off on the phone; _“God, I wanna fuck you,”_ he’d said breathlessly, and Louis’d whined and clenched tight around her fingers and told him to say it again. 

He didn’t fuck her. He fucked someone else, and she fucked someone else, and they ignored it until it felt like so long ago that it was hardly even part of them anymore, like they were different people entirely. 

The Harry crawling up her body does feel like a different person entirely. He’s not so young anymore; it felt like she was teaching him as a teenager, as wrong as she might be about that, but now he hovers over her and Zayn, glancing seamlessly between them, confident as ever. His eyes move down over her chest and Louis matches him stare for stare, looking between them to see his cock pushing against the front of his pants. 

Zayn lifts his hand from Louis’ belly and quickly pulls the band of Harry’s pants away from his hips, letting it snap back against his skin, and Harry gasps. “Give us a peek first,” Zayn says, resting his palm over Louis’ breast to rub at her nipple again. 

“Yeah,” Harry breathes, holding himself up with one arm, hand braced next to Louis’ shoulder on the mattress. He stretches his pants over his cock and pulls them down until he can tuck the band under his balls, immediately giving himself a couple slow strokes. 

“Jesus,” Louis sighs. Zayn twists her nipple between his fingers and kisses the side of her neck, and she tries hard to keep her eyes open to watch Harry’s hand on himself. He looks huge, bigger than she remembers, and she mumbles, “That’s just… excessive, innit.” 

Zayn huffs out a laugh into her neck but Harry takes his hand away and lets his cock hang for her to see, dark and slick at the tip. Louis feels her way through the tangle of the duvet to find Zayn’s hip and rubs down until she reaches his cock, squeezing him firmly to keep herself from touching Harry instead. He tugs at her nipple and they gasp at the same time. 

“Babe,” she murmurs, keeping a tight grip on him as she kisses the corner of his eye. 

“Where’re the condoms?” Zayn asks, peering up at Harry. 

“Check the floor.” Harry’s still holding all of his weight on one arm, and his muscles are starting to shake; Louis slides her hand up his arm after Zayn rolls away, watching her fingers spread farther apart the higher she goes to accommodate the width of his biceps. 

“Aren’t you fit,” Louis sighs. 

Harry doesn’t react, instead asking, “Can I kiss you?” He’s tense, muscles coiled and hard under her hand when she feels along his shoulder. 

“Yeah, love, c’mere,” she encourages, momentarily fond. He bends low enough that his cock drags against her belly by the time their lips meet, shockingly hot against her skin, and she moans quietly into his mouth before she can stop herself. 

It’s a deep kiss from the start, and as soon as they open up for each other Louis can taste herself on him, so strongly that she flushes. Zayn settles back beside her and she reaches for him right away; he catches her fingers in his and links them together, kissing the back of her hand, and Louis hums against Harry’s lips. He’s restless, shifting above her and licking deep into her mouth before drawing his tongue back to sigh, and soon she feels his knuckles against her stomach. They drag across her skin as he strokes himself, ticklish, so Louis reaches between them to tug at his wrist until he pulls his hand away. 

“No touching,” she whispers, lightly stroking her fingertips over the wet head of his cock. Harry gasps and jerks under her fingers. 

“Come on,” he says, kissing her after a pause, “Zayn got to touch.” 

“Your name Zayn?” Zayn asks; a second later, Harry moans against Louis’ cheek, but whatever Zayn’s done is over by the time she opens her eyes. “No touching, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees quietly. Louis rubs up his back and looks over to Zayn, squeezing his hand when he smiles at her. 

“Zayn’s turn now, I think,” Louis says, cheek pressed against Harry’s. “Not enough of me to go around, boys, we’ve got to share equally.” 

Somewhat crossly, Harry mutters into her ear, “Long as I get a better turn later. Didn’t even get to make you come.” 

“You might get another turn,” she says. She kisses the hinge of his jaw and turns her head to look at Zayn, watching him roll his pants down his thighs. 

“Can help me make her come,” Zayn tells Harry, giving himself a few slow pulls. Louis reaches out to touch his thigh, shifting her hips impatiently when she sees Zayn smear a slick drop of precome with his thumb, leaving the head of his cock shining. It feels like she’s literally dripping wet, afraid she’s leaving a mess on the sheets, more aroused than she’s ever been. 

“Yeah, want to,” Harry sighs, mouthing his way down her neck. 

“Take your top off, babe,” Zayn says, walking forward on his knees until he can reach Louis’ hair, pushing the few loose strands away from her face. He gets close enough that Louis is tempted to twist herself around and take his cock into her mouth, but she just listens to him instead, gently dislodging Harry to sit up and pull her shirt off. Harry reaches around her to undo the hooks on her bra and helps slip it off her arms, blatantly staring again once she’s naked. 

“Lay beside me,” Louis says, curling a hand around Harry’s neck, not so hesitant to touch him now. He leans in to kiss her and she lets him, slipping her tongue into his mouth before he can do it first and swallowing the soft moan that he gives her in return. He crawls out of her lap afterward and stretches out on his back, watching them; Louis lies back against the mattress and Zayn takes Harry’s place, settling on his haunches to roll a condom over his cock. 

The moment his hands are free, Zayn pushes her legs apart and drags his first two fingers between her thighs, sinking them into her so quickly that she hardly realizes what’s happening before he’s curling them inside. The relief that accompanies finally having something in her is almost overshadowed by how unsubstantial Zayn’s fingers feel when she’s _this_ turned on, wanting something bigger. Louis still gasps, surprised at the suddenness of it and by the slick sound when Zayn pulls his hand away, holding it up for her and Harry to see. 

“She never gets this wet, mate,” Zayn says to Harry. He brings his fingers back down to gently rub over her clit and Louis whines, tossing her head to the side to face away from Harry and matting her hair even more. “Maybe once or twice. Might’ve made this big a mess the first time she let me fuck her arse.” 

Louis moans, partially at the memory but mostly out of embarrassment; she faintly hears Harry curse under his breath and feels his hand on her belly soon after, rubbing between her hips. Her face feels like it’s glowing from being so red, hot against her hands when she pushes her hair back, and she resolutely keeps her head turned away from Harry, clenching her eyes shut. 

Several long seconds pass where Zayn moves his fingers away and replaces them with his cock, teasing the tip against her entrance - and that’s when Harry murmurs against her shoulder, “Wish I could’ve seen that.” 

He kisses his way up the side of her neck and Louis twists her arm until it’s around Harry’s neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair to hold. “Fuck me,” she pleads softly, pathetically, squeezing Zayn’s hips with her thighs; he holds both of her hips in his hands and pushes forward, his cock easily sliding in deeper. Louis lets herself moan again, louder this time, curling her free hand around Zayn’s wrist and holding tight. 

“That’s it,” Harry encourages, pressing his lips just beneath the shell of her ear. Zayn starts a solid pace with hardly any effort, pumping into her steadily, and Louis can barely breathe; he feels perfect, filling her in the most satisfying way. Her muscles clutch at him greedily and Zayn’s hands tighten around her hips in response, pulling her into his next push. Harry’s hand roams from her stomach down between her legs, where his fingers stroke lazily at the hair there. 

Pausing between thrusts to shift for better leverage, Zayn says down to Louis, “You look so good with him, babe. Oughta see it.” 

“Feel good, too,” Louis replies, cupping the back of Harry’s head. He sucks the lobe of her ear into his mouth and she shivers, licking her lips. 

“Kiss me, Lou,” Harry whispers, “give him something more to watch.” 

Louis doesn’t even think about objecting, finally turning her head back in Harry’s direction and seeking out his mouth right away. He’s ready for it, angling his head and matching her eagerness. It’s far sloppier than the first few kisses, open-mouthed and practically desperate on Louis’ end with Zayn fucking into her, still at the same steady pace. It starts to feel like Harry’s tongue is fucking into her as well, slipping in and out of her mouth between kisses at a much slower pace, half the speed Zayn’s going. The realization makes Louis think of Harry’s cock, the heavy hang of it when he was on top of her; she thinks of how he’d feel in her mouth, what it’d be like to come with both of them inside her, pushing in at the same time. She whimpers with how much she wants it, too ashamed to ask, and sucks Harry’s tongue when he slides it back into her mouth instead. 

When Harry groans into the kiss, Louis feel’s Zayn’s hips snap forward more roughly, stuttering, and she turns away from Harry’s mouth to gasp, skimming her hand up Zayn’s forearm. “Like that,” she urges, rolling her hips against him. It’s reassuring, feeling him react so viscerally to them all being together, like she can finally assume that she’s not the only one affected. 

“Yeah,” Zayn breathes, grinding into her while they both catch their breaths. She wants to kiss him but he’s sitting up straight, back taut to keep both hands on her hips, where Louis likes them best in this position. After a moment, he gives her one quick, hard thrust and says, “Haz.” 

Harry hums just as Louis moans, and both sounds get lost together. Sure that he has their attention, Zayn says, “Suck on her nipples for me.” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Louis hisses, already pushing Harry’s head lower, toward her chest. He laughs against her collarbone, probably unprepared for the enthusiasm, but orients himself quickly. The hand teasing low on her belly comes up to hold her breast instead, keeping it from moving in time with Zayn’s thrusts; he gives Louis a broad lick with the flat of his tongue first, and she exhales harshly. 

Both of Zayn’s hands slip down underneath her, almost cradling her arse instead of her hips, lifting her off the mattress that much more. He digs his nails in at the exact moment Harry fits his mouth around her nipple and gives a proper suck, almost like he planned it. Louis groans, pulling tight at a fistful of Harry’s hair until she feels his hips grind forward against her, cock dragging wetly along her thigh. 

“Zayn,” Louis says, catching his eye and watching him as he pushes forward into her again. Struggling to keep her eyes open, she reaches between them with her free hand to rub around her clit and mumbles, “Faster, please.” 

He complies as soon as she asks, hitching her up closer to his hips and fucking in faster, making up for his shallow thrusts with how quickly they come. Louis has to close her eyes then, overwhelmed and close; she can barely rub her clit with how wet everything is, giving her no friction to work with. Harry’s mouth stays latched onto her nipple and he sucks firmly to keep it from slipping out, biting down just enough to make her gasp between the whines that Zayn’s fucking out of her. 

It’s impossible to tell which of them starts to come first — they almost never orgasm at the same time, usually finishing each other off separately, but the second Louis closes her legs tight around Zayn’s hips and clenches around his cock, she hears the groan that he almost always lets out when he comes. They move together at the same pace for a few more seconds until Louis squirms underneath him, drawing Harry away from her nipple with a sigh as Zayn slows his thrusts, eventually pulling out to toss the condom into the bin beside the nightstand. 

Out of breath and sweating, Louis lowers her hips to the bed and moans weakly when she feels Zayn crawl back on top of her. He kisses her softly and she sighs again, grateful for the affection despite the scratch of his beard against her chin. They only kiss for a moment, still winded, mostly nudging their noses together instead. 

“This is very sweet and all,” Harry says, sounding strained, “but I honestly feel like I might die. Like, any minute.” 

They both turn to look at him and Louis pushes some of his hair out of his face. He’s flushed and still blatantly aroused, and she remembers that he’s been hard ever since he answered the door when she first came in. 

“He has been waiting a while, hasn’t he?” Louis asks, rubbing down Zayn’s back with one hand and squeezing Harry’s neck with the other. 

Zayn looks him over, reaching out to push gently at his hip and Harry rolls onto his back at the touch, cock jutting out. “Never even took your pants all the way off,” Zayn says, rubbing his fingertips over an angry red indent in Harry’s hip where the band of his pants have been digging in. Louis sees his cock jerk, just from that. 

“Get ‘em off now,” she says. Harry lifts his hips and pushes his pants down past his knees, working them off the rest of the way with his feet. He looks between both of them, chest heaving, like he’s waiting to be told what to do. 

“What a pretty picture you make,” Zayn tells him, slightly teasing. Harry smirks a little, like he knows, and keeps his hands curled into the sheets by his sides, letting them look. 

Louis glances at Zayn, wondering if he has a solid plan in place for what happens next, but he seems to be content to let his eyes wander over Harry’s body, watching him wait. Wanting to make Harry feel the way she did at the beginning, Louis says, “What’re we gonna do with him, then?” 

She watches as Harry shifts against the bed, not taking his eyes off of them. Zayn hums, “Dunno. Could show ya something we’ve recently found out he quite likes.” 

Harry’s jaw immediately tenses, but he doesn’t protest. “And what’s that?” Louis asks. 

“Gonna show her, babe?” Zayn asks, climbing off of Louis and over to Harry instead. Harry’s eyes follow him, and he’s growing steadily redder, the blush spreading down his neck. Zayn leans in to kiss him, slow and coaxing in comparison to Harry’s desperation; Louis crowds in closer to watch them, pushing strands of Zayn’s hair out of her view. 

Towards the end of the kiss, Harry starts to nod. He murmurs into Zayn’s mouth, “Yeah, I want to.” 

Zayn gives him another brief kiss before he moves away, repositioning himself between Harry’s legs. Louis slowly sits up to watch him, sighing when Harry curls his hand around her thigh. “Just _recently_ discovered you like a blowjob?” Louis asks, ignoring the part of her that’s excited to see Zayn with a prick in his mouth, cheeks hollowed. 

“Not part of the plan, actually,” Zayn replies, nevertheless ducking down to suck a quick kiss over the leaking tip of Harry’s cock. Louis feels her clit pulse sympathetically, and Harry hisses as though the touch burns him, exhaling loudly enough that his breath comes out as an _ah_. Zayn pulls off as quickly as he went in, instead sucking his own middle finger into his mouth. It’s one of the two that he’d used inside her, and Louis feels her cheeks heat again as she remembers. 

Zayn is sloppy enough — not sucking so much as soaking his finger — that Louis knows where it’s going before he pulls it out of his mouth. Still, she’s surprised by the whimper that Harry lets out when Zayn’s hand disappears between his legs; she rubs over his chest and taps at one of his nipples, watching his eyes close. 

“Zayn’s sharing all of our secrets today, isn’t he,” Louis says, pinching Harry’s nipple between two of her fingers. He lets out a breathless laugh but his brows furrow right afterward, muscles straining under her hand. 

“All the same secrets,” Zayn says. He’s slowly moving his arm when Louis looks back at him, most likely easing his finger in and out of Harry. “Think he likes gettin’ his arse fingered more than you, though.” 

Harry’s fingers grip her thigh tighter and he lets out another soft sound, shamelessly parting his legs wider. Louis looks from his open mouth all the way down his body to where Zayn’s hand is hidden and asks Zayn, “You given him your cock, too?” The noise Harry makes this time is like a proper moan cut off halfway through, caught in his throat; he squirms down onto Zayn’s hand, and Louis feels a little triumphant noticing how much quicker he’s breathing. 

“Not yet,” Zayn says. He looks turned on again, staring blatantly between Harry’s legs as he fingers him. Harry still hasn’t touched his cock but it’s started leaking more steadily, leaving a slick trail where drops of precome have been sliding down the length of him. 

“Should let him,” Louis says, leaning down to kiss Harry’s slack mouth once. He tries to kiss back, but she keeps just out of reach. “Let him fuck you proper, yeah? Feels better with his prick than his fingers, love.” 

“M’gonna come,” Harry breathes out in a rush, squeezing tightly at her thigh, his nails biting into her skin. 

“Jesus,” she murmurs, looking down to where Zayn’s arm is completely still but his muscles stand out easily, flexed and tense. Louis wraps her hand around his cock and barely gives him one full tug before he’s jerking his hips, coming with a groan louder than she expects, much louder than she remembers him being. His cock jerks forcefully under her touch, and she sees his come cover him all the way up to his neck, striping the tattoos on both his stomach and chest. 

Zayn kisses the backs of Louis’ fingers that are still wrapped around Harry’s cock before he pulls out, sitting up on his knees. She watches him look up Harry’s body and then does the same herself, trying to pay no attention to the insistent tug between her legs at the sight of him so fucked out and flushed, sweating and breathing heavily. 

“That,” Harry starts, pausing for several seconds while he swallows and catches his breath, “was not indicative of my usual stamina.” 

“I seem to recall you coming just about as quick the first time I got my hands on you,” Louis tells him. 

“I was _17_ ,” Harry protests. 

“And had fancied you from the minute he met you,” Zayn adds, crawling up onto Harry’s other side. 

“Aw, Hazza,” Louis says sweetly, giving his cheek a few pats. Harry just nods, smiling resignedly for his ribbing. 

“Which isn’t an excuse, by the way,” Zayn says, “as I fancied you as well and have incredible stamina.” 

The smile melts off of Harry’s face, and he turns to look at Zayn, wounded. For her part, Louis chooses to look offended. “Why d’you keep saying ‘fancied’ like it’s past tense? Do you not still fancy me, then?” 

“Course I still fancy you, babe,” Zayn says placatingly, leaning across Harry’s body to offer his mouth for a kiss. Reluctantly, Louis accepts, pecking his lips briefly. 

Mockingly, Harry puts on his best Zayn accent and repeats, “Course I still fancy ya, beb,” offering his mouth as well in an exaggerated pucker. Louis smirks at Zayn and accepts Harry’s kiss as well, laughing when Zayn cuffs him upside the head for his cheap imitation.

“I thought there would be more cuddling after a threesome with you two. You’re both cuddlers. Why am I getting _hit_ instead?” Harry asks. 

“You are absolutely covered in semen,” Louis points out. “I’m not cuddling that.” 

Harry looks down at his torso and shrugs a bit, accepting this reasoning. Zayn says, “We’ll cuddle next time.” 

“Presumptuous,” Louis says, despite how excited she is about the idea of a _next time_. “Am I meant to invite _both_ of you out to the bus for a pasta tonight?” 

“Or I could invite both of you to my room,” Harry says. “With clean sheets. A bed.” 

“Candles. Romantic lighting,” Zayn adds. 

“A little Barry Manilow playing in the background,” Louis says. 

“Alright,” Harry sighs. 

“Maybe a bubble bath,” Zayn says. 

“Rose petals on the sheets?” Louis suggests. 

“I’m lighting the candles whether you like or not,” Harry says, and both of them laugh.


End file.
